


just to see you smile

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Combeferre should know better than to study with Courfeyrac. Especially when Courfeyrac isn't in the mood to study at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just to see you smile

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for a C/C prompts and my lovely [joly bean](http://jolybean.tumblr.com/) requested fluff. I ended up writing fluffy smut.

Courfeyrac is distracting at the best of times. Even when he's actually paying attention to his own work, his very presence occasionally draws Combeferre's attention away from his books. He's not entirely sure why they study together, when they study completely different subjects, but here they are as usual, sitting on the floor of Combeferre's room with their books open around them.

Except this afternoon, Courfeyrac is restless. He has his law textbook open in his lap and he's reading from it, or at the very least, he appears to be. He also has his bare foot rubbing against Combeferre's ankle, from where they're sitting across from each other.

Combeferre ignores it, focusing instead of writing notes for his module on the human brain. He knows from experience that the more attention he gives Courfeyrac now, the more it will encourage him, until it's impossible to focus on anything else except for him. Then again, ignoring Courfeyrac only makes him more determined.

When Combeferre continues to ignore the foot rubbing against his, Courfeyrac stops. Combeferre glances up from his book, immediately regretting it. Courfeyrac is looking directly at him, sucking his pen into his mouth.

Combeferre looks back down at his books, his grip on his own pen tightening. He gets a few more lines of notes written, though he can't help the way his gaze occasionally flicks up to Courfeyrac, lips parting with a silent sigh at his wet mouth, dark lashes lowered over darker eyes. 

When Combeferre writes _Courfeyrac_ instead of _corpus callosum_ , he knows that it's time to give up. There's no point in resisting and Courfeyrac must be able to tell the exact moment he makes this decision, because the pen is suddenly out of his mouth and he's grinning.

"You're insufferable," Combeferre grumbles, closing his books and setting them aside. "Come here."

Courfeyrac is in his lap without a moment's hesitation. The way Courfeyrac kisses him is hungry, demanding, messy, and Combeferre holds him close, kisses him back, tongues sliding against each other and fingers curled in each other's hair.

"What brought this on?" Combeferre asks in a murmur, kissing down Courfeyrac's neck. 

"You were sitting with Joly when I met you in the library." Courfeyrac's voice is breathless and he tips his head back further to give Combeferre better access. "You were explaining something to him and— _fuck_ —I had no idea what you were talking about but you clearly did and just. That look in your eyes when you're explaining something…"

Combeferre laughs quietly. "You like that?"

" _Yeah_." Courfeyrac places his hands on either side of Combeferre's face and kisses him hard. 

"So that's why you've been so distracting since we got here."

Courfeyrac gives him a bright smile. "Can you blame me?"

Sighing heavily, Combeferre slides a hand up the back of Courfeyrac's shirt. "That's the problem. I never can."

Courfeyrac's smile grows wider as Combeferre gets him to stand up, then pushes him down onto his bed. Their arms wrap around each other and they kiss as they undress. Courfeyrac reaches for the lube in the drawer of Combeferre's bedside table, slicking his fingers and spreading his legs. He likes preparing himself but more than that, he likes it when Combeferre watches. For his part, Combeferre loves to watch. He takes in the slight furrow of Courfeyrac's brow, the way his eyes slip shut, and his mouth falls open with a quiet sigh.

Combeferre takes it as a sign to take the lube, rubbing it onto his fingers. He wraps his fingers around Courfeyrac's wrist, squeezing gently. Courfeyrac pulls his fingers away and Combeferre replaces them with his own, two of them at once. His fingers are slightly thicker than Courfeyrac, and intimately familiar with his body. He crooks them just slightly, gentle as he brushes them over Courfeyrac's prostate.

" _Ferre_ ," Courfeyrac cries out, fingers digging into Combeferre's arms. Combeferre kisses his forehead, his cheek, his lips. 

Combeferre brushes his fingers over the bundle of nerves again, a little harder this time, and Courfeyrac moans louder, back arching, laughing with pure pleasure. Combeferre finds himself grinning in return. Sex with Courfeyrac is the best sex he's ever had but more than that, it's _fun_. They know each other so well—know exactly what the other likes—that they barely need words to communicate.

Courfeyrac wraps an arm around Combeferre's shoulders, face pressed into his neck. Combeferre slowly withdraws his fingers, reaching for a condom and slicking himself up.

He pushes into Courfeyrac gently, until he's all the way in. They turn to each other to kiss, gasping into each other's mouths as they thrust against each other. Combeferre knows that Courfeyrac likes it best when he's fucked with slow, deep thrusts at first, until they're both too impatient for that any more. He can feel Courfeyrac's smile against his lips, and it's always difficult for Combeferre to keep himself from smiling when they're alone together like this. 

This is everything he's wanted without realising until he actually had it. Combeferre loves Courfeyrac; he's always loved him as best friends, but this is different. This is a love that burns intensely at times and simmers at others, but is constant all the same. It makes him want to do everything he possibly can to make Courfeyrac happy. It makes him want this forever.

Courfeyrac's grip on Combeferre tightens and he makes an impatient little sound at the back of his throat. Combeferre immediately understands, taking hold of Courfeyrac's hips and thrusting harder. He wraps his fingers around Courfeyrac's cock, stroking it in time with their movements. Courfeyrac moans this time, arching off the bed, and comes with a cry of, " _Ferre_!"

It takes Combeferre another few thrusts before he's coming too. They don't pull apart immediately, content to cling to each other, chests rising and falling as they regain their breath. They turn to each other, noses brushing as they share the same air. Then, Courfeyrac's lips spread into a grin and he lets out a laugh, quiet and happy. He bites his lip immediately after to stop himself, but the grin is still there.

Combeferre chuckles, pulling away and throwing out his condom before crawling back into bed, raking his fingers through Courfeyrac's sweat-damp hair and kissing him. Courfeyrac still can't stop smiling and neither can Combeferre; they give up on their kiss, content to rest their foreheads together and lie beside each other. 

"We should probably get back to our books," Combeferre murmurs at length.

"Or." Courfeyrac tucks his head under Combeferre's chin and entwines their fingers together. "We could just stay here for a while."

Courfeyrac might be impossible for Combeferre to say no to, but he doesn't mind that at all.


End file.
